


C12H22O11

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis makes cookies. (This isn’t weird at all.)





	C12H22O11

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s a bit like making pixel art, except with rounded edges instead of perfect squares, but the simplicity’s the same—the cookies come out as little side-view people that only vaguely represent the men Ignis is trying to capture. He does his best to increase the resemblance with black icing for their hair and clothes and white icing for Prompto. It would be better if he had a few shades of brown to mix in, but there’re only so many supplies he can find at the local gas station. This is the sort of thing that would’ve been better to do in Insomnia, when he had more space and money and the entirety of the royal kitchens at his disposal. Now he might never have that opportunity, so he may as well get it over with, and besides, his friends look like they could use a pick-me-up. After a hard day of hunts and endless driving, they deserve a sugary indulgence.

For a brief moment, Ignis does consider slipping ground up zucchini into the batter, but then there’d be a chance that Noctis might catch on, and Ignis isn’t sure he could take Noctis turning down his cookies. So they come out as pure junk food: a rare but well-earned treat. Ignis lets the cookies cool on his makeshift station by their tent while he sips his coffee and eats with the rest of them, and, eventually, the chilly evening air does its job. 

He finds the tray tepid enough to carry over to the fire, where he presents them to the party. Noctis perks up to see them, leaning over, and Prompto immediately jumps up to take a slew of pictures. Gladiolus whistles appreciatively, chiming, “You really outdid yourself this time, Iggy.”

“Thank you,” Ignis answers, but he waits before he gets too pleased with himself—the real test of their value will come in the tasting. “I thought, rather than eat our own, we might—”

“I’m taking Gladio,” Noctis announces, coming forward to pluck the doughy beefcake off the center of the tray.

Prompto instantly whines, “Aw, no fair—he’s the biggest!”

“Exactly,” Noctis replies, already smirking as he goes to bite off Gladiolus’ head. Gladiolus makes a disgruntled noise at seeing himself decapitated, though he couldn’t have realistically expected Noctis to show any delicacy. Frowning, Gladiolus hovers over the tray to make the next choice.

“I guess I’ll take Prompto... the white icing looks good.”

“It’s _icing_ ,” Ignis tells him, “they’re both pure sugar, the black simply contains food colouring—”

“I’m _always_ good,” Prompto laughs over him, until Gladiolus delicately nibbles off the ends of his toes, which has him squawking, “My feet!”

“Hey,” Noctis cuts in, drawing Ignis’ attention. “These are really good, Specs.” On the outside, Ignis nods politely, but inside, his chest clenches with _feelings_ , because Noctis very rarely gives him such compliments, even though he constantly works for them, and tonight’s appreciation isn’t lost on him. When he looks back to the tray, he finds Prompto reaching for cookie-Noctis—Ignis lightly slaps his hand away.

Prompto yelps, and Ignis curtly chides, “That one’s mine.” Prompto blinks, blushes at the obvious implications of that statement, which has Ignis’ cheeks suddenly heating too, and then Prompto shrugs and takes Ignis’ own likeness. He saves mini-Ignis from a brutal biting, instead licking the iced clothing off his body, which is maybe just as bad. 

Putting the tray down at his feet and then returning to his foldout chair, Ignis sets in on slowly enjoying his adorable prince. As he nibbles off Noctis’ hair, Noctis asks, “Hey, can you make me an Umbra one?”

Ignis predictably agrees, “Of course, Your Highness.”

Noctis grins in anticipation and swallows the rest of Gladiolus whole.


End file.
